I can't put my finger on the exact moment, but it has definitely happened.
My baby has stepped over into the realm of toddlerhood ...
I can see the tiny flashes of independence.
The desire to do everything his way, on his time.
The constant shaking of the head: "No, no, no, no no!" (Funny, that even though he doesn't talk, he's got the whole "no!" thing down already!)
The burning curiosity (and determination to acquire) things that he shouldn't have.
The fake cries.
The whining.
The ability to "help" me out by picking up his toys and closing drawers and doors.
The nonstop energy that propels him from one end of the house to the other ... And back again!
The gradual boycott of the afternoon nap.
In so many ways, my little baby has shown that he's not so little anymore.
He's got his own personality.
His own likes and dislikes.
His own ideas and expectations as to how each day should go.
He has literally changed before my eyes and yet he is still the same ... The same little boy who stole my heart.
It happened, all right.
Malcolm is a toddler.
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